


weave our days together like waves

by pocky_slash



Series: a simple life [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Domestic, Engagement, Established Relationship, Ficlet Collection, Gen, Inspired by Photography, Kid Fic, M/M, Married Couple, Napping, Photographs, Pregnancy, Presents, Sibling Love, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:29:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocky_slash/pseuds/pocky_slash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ficlets about an alternate universe where Raven, a single mother by choice, and her baby live with her brother, Charles, and his husband, Erik.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. getting to know you

**Author's Note:**

> Currently, these are in chronological order, but if/when I write more, they'll be out of order. Sorry in advance.
> 
> These were all inspired by/written for **pearl_o** , who also has her fingers in this shared universe.
> 
> Chapter One is inspired by [this picture](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m9i1v2YQNV1qbtmrio1_1280.jpg) of Jennifer Lawrence that **pearl_o** shared with the comment that it looked like Modern!AU Raven visiting Charles and Erik's place.

"You'll like her," Charles says for the fifth or sixth (hundredth) time. "I know she's young, but she's very mature for her age."

Erik doesn't doubt that Charles' sister is mature for her age. _Charles_ is young and _Charles_ is mature for his age and Erik suspects that the social and familial circumstances that lead to that helped Raven along as well.

"I'm sure I will," Erik says.

"You might even like her more than you like me," Charles says, with a laugh that borders on nervous, and Erik captures his wrist and pulls him to a stop, pressing him up against the kitchen wall and kissing him.

"I doubt I'll like her more than I like you," he assures Charles when he pulls away. When Charles doesn't respond immediately, Erik reaches out and brushes his hair behind his ear. "I've met Raven before," he adds. "It will be fine."

Though he has met Raven before, it was only briefly. She was at school abroad when Charles got his PhD and she's met up with him three or four times since coming back to the states, but Charles has taken those lunch dates alone. Erik picked him up once and dropped him off once, but only stuck around for the briefest of introductions ("Raven, this is Erik." "Oh my god, he's even hotter in person. How did you mange this? Are you mind controlling him or something?") before continuing on his way. There's nothing to indicate that he won't like her--she seems smart and funny and she and Charles adore each other. Charles, however, has been pacing a rut in the floor since he extended the invitation to Raven last week.

"Where's that Xavier arrogance that drives me crazy?" Erik asks.

"You've found my kryptonite," Charles says. He smiles a little, but Erik can tell that sentence is more truthful than anything else. Hm.

The buzzer keeps Erik from further investigation. Charles slides out from where Erik has him gently pinned and buzzes Raven up, then opens the door in anticipation. Erik shakes his head and grabs the plate of sandwiches He bought on his way home from the gym. He puts them on the coffee table and then hangs back to watch as the elevator in the hallway dings and Raven eventually appears in the open doorway, enveloping Charles in a hug. She's wearing heels and towering over him and Erik finds that strangely endearing.

"Oh, I missed you so much," Raven says.

"I've missed you too, darling," Charles says. "Come in, come in."

Charles steps back to allow Raven into the apartment and her eyes immediately begin to wander, absorbing everything about it. Erik watches her examine their home and tries to see the space through fresh eyes, wonders what it is she takes out of the haphazard pile of shoes next to the door and the color-coded boxes stacked against the wall next to the bookcase. It's odd--they've only been here for about six months, but it already feels so familiar, so much like home, that Erik forgets that, sometimes. They'd cleaned a bit before her arrival, but most of the cleaning involved putting things into neat piles that, from this new perspective, still look rather messy.

Oh well. Raven is eighteen. He can't imagine she'll judge them too harshly.

"You remember Erik, yes?" Charles says, and Raven makes a quiet noise of disbelief.

"No, Charles, I haven't bumped my head and suddenly forgotten a year's worth of constant babbling," she says. She offers Erik her hand and Erik shakes it. "You seriously can't find anything better to do than hang around my brother?"

"Well, all of my things are here," Erik says. He gestures around the room with his freehand.

"Yeah, I can tell, Charles isn't this organized and his design sense isn't this good," she says, and drops down onto the sofa. Erik likes her already, and he catches Charles' eye and smiles at him encouragingly. Charles smiles back, though it looks almost brittle until Erik reaches out and takes his hand, tugging him over so they can sit together, across from Raven, as she and Charles catch up.

Raven's starting her freshman year of college. She was accepted on the strength of her art portfolio, but she's thinking of switching to design or sculpture or maybe theatre with a specialty in make-up and costuming. Her nonchalance makes Charles nervous, Erik can tell. He's not sure why. It's not like either of them are lacking for funds. Raven can blow off college all together, spend the rest of her life lying by the pool, and still never want for anything. That's not a discussion Erik wants to have in front of Raven, however, so he steers the conversation away to more mundane matters, like Raven's friends and Charles' classes and boring domestic stories about the boring domestic life that Charles and Erik found themselves tripping into while Raven was abroad.

He likes her. She's sarcastic and smart and funny and not afraid of speaking her mind. He can see why Charles would say Erik might like her more than he likes Charles--she possesses several qualities that Erik looks for in friends, things that are lacking in Charles. She also managed to avoid the worst of the arrogance and dismissal that plague Charles and find their way into argument after argument. All that being said, however, at the end of the day, despite any qualities that Charles may or may not have, Erik is entirely smitten with and devoted to Charles above all else. 

He wonders if somewhere in all of this is a conversation they need to have. He wouldn't be surprised, but for the moment, he's content to sit with his hand pressed to the small of Charles' back where his shirt rides up, sipping wine and listening to Charles and Raven tell ludicrous stories from their childhood.


	2. promotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles thinks Erik is the best boyfriend. Erik reminds him that he's recently earned a promotion.

Erik comes riding Charles' cock, sharp and sudden and unexpected, gasping against it and collapsing against Charles' chest, his arms like noodles. He stays there, breathing heavy, until Charles comes as well and is distantly surprised that Charles managed to get off so quickly, given how drunk he is.

Erik can feel Charles' heart as it slows, less wild and frantic, back to normal along with his breathing which huffs out against Erik's scalp, ruffling his hair.

"Heavy," Charles finally says, grunting, and Erik manages a weak, tired laugh.

"Drunk," Erik replies, but he rolls to the side and kisses Charles' temple, licks at the bead of sweat sliding down from his hairline.

"Mm," Charles says. "And whose fault is that? People kept handing me drinks. Can't turn down free drinks, not at my own engagement party."

"And what does your fiance have to say about all those free drinks?" Erik asks. His head is tucked close enough that he can smell the sweat and cigarette smoke in Charles' hair. He drags his fingers gently across Charles' chest, from freckle to freckle, as Charles lolls his head to the side to look at Erik. Erik goes a little crosseyed, trying to look at Charles this close, but he doesn't mind. It's worth it, seeing the way his eyes are bright and just a little glassy from the alcohol, to look at his flushed cheeks and the freckles on his nose and the way his teeth catch his lower lip when he smiles.

"I think he likes me when I'm like this," Charles says, smirking. "Just a guess, but he did just come all over my stomach."

Erik laughs and kisses Charles, because he can, because no one else can any more, because Charles is pouting the way he pouts when he wants to be kissed, because nothing makes Erik quite as happy as simply kissing Charles until they're both dizzy.

Charles' lips are slick and sweet. They taste like champagne and the lipgloss his sister was wearing at the party, even though Erik's kissed him a dozen times since they said good bye to Raven. Maybe it's in his head. Maybe he just assumes that Charles is always going to taste a little sweet to take the edge off his razor sharp tongue, the way the baggy sweaters and ruffled hair and worn jeans distract the world from how astonishingly brilliant he is underneath them all.

Charles' mouth is pliant under Erik's, like the rest of him, molding against him and taking everything Erik throws at him in a sleepy, fuzzy haze. His eyes are half-lidded when Erik pulls away, cheeks even rosier than before, and he curls closer, tucking his head under Erik's chin and sliding his thigh between Erik's legs.

"I want a cigarette," Charles mumbles.

"You'll set the bed on fire and kill us both," Erik protests, but he throws an arm over the edge of the bed and roots around in the bedside table until he finds a crumpled pack with a lighter wedged inside. He perches the cigarette between his own lips, then lights it and takes a drag before he offers it to Charles.

"You are the best boyfriend," Charles says around the cigarette butt.

"Fiance," Erik says. "I'm the best fiance. Someone else can move up to best boyfriend. I've been promoted."

"If it's all the same, I'd like to keep the position vacant for the time being," Charles says. He balances the cigarette between the first two fingers of his hand and breaths out a stream of smoke that really shouldn't be sexy. Charles' hands--square and thick--shouldn't be sexy either, but they are, particularly when one of is wrapped around Erik's hip while the other holds a cigarette. "I've found that most of the best boyfriend job responsibilities were easily commuted to the best fiance role. It's more economical to just hold on to the one for now."

"Good," Erik says, laughing soft and low and stealing the cigarette back. "I don't know if you've noticed this about me, but I don't like to share."

"Mm, very selfish," Charles says. "Almost as selfish as me."

"I'd hate to have to knock off any competitors," Erik says. "It would be messy. I'd probably have to serve time. You'd be a prison widow. And I don't think they allow conjugal visits, no matter what it says on television." 

"Dreadful," Charles murmurs. He steals the cigarette for another drag, but Erik can already tell he's starting to fade, his eyes blinking rapidly, as if the flutter of his eyelashes can keep sleep from claiming him. "I suppose there's nothing for it, then. I'll just have to keep you."

Erik takes one more pull from the cigarette, pried from Charles' fingers, and then drops it in the cup of water on the bedside table.

"I suppose I can live with that," Erik says, but Charles is already asleep.


	3. things you say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While rearranging furniture for the baby, Charles finds an old photograph.

Erik's office becomes the baby's room after careful consideration. It has two main benefits--firstly, it's next to Raven's room. Secondly (and, Charles sheepishly admits, probably most importantly), Erik's a bit neater than Charles and packing up his office will take less than an hour. It will probably take three times that just to make enough space in Charles' office for Erik's things.

("We could do three bedrooms," Charles had mused when they were first looking for a place.

"I love you," Erik had replied with careful gravity, "but if I have to share office space with you, I might be forced to strangle you, if I can even get close enough to do so."

They're all making sacrifices for the baby and there's something thrillingly touching about that.)

The walls of Erik's office are a soft grey that Raven scoffs at.

"It's a kid's room, not an Ikea showroom," she says. "We're painting it a color."

By "we" she means "Charles and Erik," of course. While she waves them off when they try to baby her or question her choices, she also isn't above using her pregnancy to guilt them into being at her beck and call.

("If there was any ever question that she was an Xavier," Erik muttered one night as they ran out to get her ice cream. When Charles asked what he meant by that, Erik refused to elaborate.)

So they trek to Home Depot with Raven and look at dozens of wallpaper samples and load up the car with a few rolls of a jungle border and several cans of soft green paint and primer. They bring it all back and unload it and dedicate themselves to the task of packing Erik's things into Charles' office. It doesn't take long to move everything, although for the moment it's just haphazardly left in the middle of the room until Charles can cull his bookcases. He wants to avoid that as long as possible, however, so he slips back into the empty office to grab the few knick-knacks left behind.

The photograph is on the floor, wedged between the floorboards and the baseboard right where Erik's desk used to sit. Charles thinks it's a piece of paper at first, assumes it blew behind the desk at some point. It's not until he leans over to pick it up that he realizes it's a photo.

It's an old photo. Well--for a given value of "old." It's from when they were first dating, and it takes Charles a minute to place it--it's a grainy, pouting, drunken self-portrait of Charles that he thinks he remembers taking while he was out one night, sending it to Erik as a drunken "wish you were here." The photo is worn and the edges are curling--this is something that's been carried around and handled and Charles didn't even know.

"Stop avoiding your tasks, Charles," Erik says. He enters the room and puts his hands on his hips. "We don't need to get rid of the books, we just need to figure out what's going in the bedroom and what's going in the living room. Of course, if you _want_ to get rid of some of the books, I'm sure Raven would appreciate one of the smaller cases for the baby's room."

Charles glances up at him and blinks, trying to concentrate on the conversation, but before he can say anything, Erik crosses over to him.

"Is that--oh." He gives the photo a fond half-smile and reaches out to uncurl one corner. "I was wondering where that got to." He stands behind Charles and wraps an arm around his waist. Charles' movement is automatic, ingrained, now. He leans back against Erik and tucks his head between Erik's shoulder and neck, though his eyes don't leave the photo.

"It's...." He's not sure how to finish that sentence. _Ridiculous_ , maybe. "...old," is what he says, and Erik laughs.

"I've had it for a while," he says vaguely. Charles thinks, maybe, he's had it since Charles first sent it to him. "It's my favorite picture of you."

Charles is almost embarrassed by that. He's so clearly wasted. The photo's blurry around the edges and he's not even smiling, just giving the camera a sort of lopsided pout. It looks like his hair probably needed a good washing and the angle makes his nose look bigger than usual.

"I don't know if you remember this," Charles says, "but we actually paid a professional to take photos when we were married. I'm rather positive my eyes were even open all the way in most of them."

Erik laughs and pulls Charles a little closer, just snug enough that it's a true embrace and not merely Charles leaning his back against Erik's front.

"I do remember," Erik assures him. "But those aren't really...you. I mean, they are. But it's you looking neat, smiling for the camera because a professional asked you to. This is just...you. Out on the town. Drunk and whining just a little bit and thinking about me. And I like that. I like that I've seen you look like this a thousand times."

Well, that's--

Well. That's something.

Charles closes his eyes and lets Erik take his weight, lets Erik kiss his temple and his ear and his cheek.

"Sometimes you just...say things," Charles murmurs.

"I say things frequently, actually," Erik says. "Not as frequently as you or Raven, so I understand the confusion--"

Charles elbows him lightly.

"You say things," he says again as Erik's lips brush his cheekbone. "Things that make me understand why my heart beats faster when you come into a room."

"And here I thought you only liked me for my looks," Erik says. He's not doing anything with his hands, not really, just using one to hold Charles in place, low on his belly and unmoving, fingers splayed out, but it's suddenly unbearably hot and possessive and Charles has never wanted anyone this much, will never want anyone this much again until the next time some innocuous thing Erik does drives him crazy like this.

"Shut up," he breathes, heart hammering, "and take me into the other room and take off all my clothes."

"Bossy," Erik chastises, but he turns Charles around and leans down to steal a kiss, hooking his fingers in the pockets of Charles' jeans and dragging him slowly out into the hall and towards their bedroom and--

"Are you two seriously going to have sex before you even start painting the room?" Raven calls from the living room.

"We have all weekend to paint," Erik calls back.

"You have all weekend to fuck, too!" Raven says.

"I'm taking your brother's pants off now!" Erik says, and then yanks Charles into the bedroom before Raven can reply.


	4. happy birth day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik thinks it's important that they get a present for Raven.

Erik thinks it's important that they get something for Raven.

"This _is_ for Raven," Charles says, rolling his eyes as he tugs on the straps of the car seat to make sure they're secure. "She put together this whole list."

"No," Erik says, "it's for _the baby_. I think we should get something _for Raven_."

"If you say so," Charles says, but in the dismissive way that means he'll allow Erik to follow a whim, even though he thinks it's silly. 

Charles is very lucky Erik loves him as much as he does.

Erik doesn't end up making the purchase until after Kurt is born. He spends a lot of time thinking on it, a lot of time wandering around when Raven's not home, peering at her things. He's not snooping as much as he's looking for ideas, but nothing seems quite right. It should be special, but Erik thinks gifts need to have a certain amount of practicality, as well. He wants it to be something special, but something she'll use, not a tochke for a shelf that will simply collect dust.

He gets the idea on a rainy Saturday when Charles nearly chops his own hand off.

"I slipped!" he says, helpless and a little hysterical. Erik feels a little hysterical too, lightheaded from the fear and relief that are mingling in his chest. Charles was cutting tomatoes and slipped and his hand shot forward and--

There's a small, bleeding knick on his hand. There's a deep, jagged scratch in the metal of his watch band.

"You're okay," Erik says, taking Charles' hand to feel for himself. He very carefully does not say, _Why the fuck are you using a knife that sharp to cut tomatoes for fuck's sake, Charles, shit, god, fuck, are you okay?_

The blood wipes away with Erik's thumb and after two or three passes, it doesn't even bead up again. Erik's heart rate returns to normal and Charles' does as well. He's moved on from shock and is staring in dismay at the watch.

"Do you think your friend could fix it?" Charles asks. "The jeweler? The one who did--" He wiggles his fingers, still clasped in Erik's hand and it takes Erik a minute to make the connection to Charles' wedding ring.

"Maybe," Erik asks. "I'll bring it by and ask him tomorrow."

Felix takes one look at Charles' watch and tsks before he takes it from Erik's hands and brings it into the back.

"This is an inferior construction," he calls out to Erik.

"It's my husband's," Erik says. "I think it was a gift. It looks too big for his wrist, but he wears it all the time."

Felix says something about changing the band, tightening it and making it more narrow to fit Charles' bone structure, but Erik isn't listening. There's a charm bracelet on a display that's caught his eye. Something about the shape, the structure, reminds him immediately of Raven.

"My friend," Felix says when he returns to the front room of the shop. "Is there something on your mind?"

"How fast can you have something engraved?" he asks.

"For your husband's watch?" Felix asks.

"No," Erik says. He taps the glass over the bracelet. "If I call you with a message, how long would it be before I could pick it up?"

"For you?" Felix says. "Two hours, if I am not busy."

"Excellent," Erik says.

Three weeks later, he calls Felix as he and Charles are getting ready to return to the hospital. Charles is holding his camera, ready to document everything about his nephew's second day of life and he's antsy as Erik reads Felix the inscription over the phone. He's so preoccupied over the baby, three hours later, that he doesn't even seem to notice Erik leaving and returning with a tiny wrapped box in his hand.

"What's that?" Raven asks. Charles glances up from the baby briefly.

"It's for you," Erik says. "Happy...kid-having day."

"Eloquent as always, Lehnsherr," Raven says, but she pulls off the ribbon and paper and snaps open the velvet box.

He can tell by her face that she's already impressed and congratulates himself on correctly identifying her style. The expression changes when she reads the inscription on the plain charm, Kurt's name and birth date and measurements.

"I think those stupid necklaces with baby charms are kind of bullshit," Erik says. "This seemed more your style. Congratulations, Raven. You did it."

Raven goes a little teary at that and opens her arms. Erik knows better than to refuse a hug and he pulls her close, petting her hair and wrapping his arms tightly around her. He loves Charles more than he thought it was possible to love someone and he'd been skeptical when Charles had asked if Raven could stay with them for a few months back when she was an undergrad. But fuck if he hasn't grown to love her, too. There's a reason she's still here, all these years later. Erik loves her like a sister, or possibly more, because he thinks he loves her differently than Charles does, but no less deeply.

"Thanks," Raven says. "I'm glad I have you, Erik. We do, I mean. Me and the baby, now."

"I'm glad I have you too," Erik says.


	5. afternoon nap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Kurt take a nap. Charles doesn't.

When Erik opens his eyes, it takes him a moment to orient himself--the sofa, the big ugly one in the living room that they only keep because all three of them can pile onto it, practically on top of each other, and still be comfortable. He's stretched out across it and the baby is asleep on his chest.

Charles is sitting on the edge of the coffee table, staring at them both with wide, heartbreakingly blue eyes.

"What's up?" Erik asks quietly, and Charles merely shrugs. The light filtering in from the blinds is weak and grey--twilight already. Erik's been asleep for at least an hour.

"Just staring at me?" Erik asks.

"Yeah," Charles says, and Erik doesn't know what he expected Charles to say, but it wasn't that frank admission. Erik's skin itches pleasantly under the sudden weight of Charles' gaze. "I just...you...."

Charles frowns, a crease forming between his eyebrows, and bites his lower lip. Erik reaches out with the hand that's not holding the baby against his chest and drags his thumb across Charles' cheek and then his mouth. Charles closes his eyes and breathes out, shakey and hoarse, then takes Erik's hand.

"Come here," Erik says, shifting over as much as he can. Charles doesn't hesitate, sitting on the edge of the couch and then pulling himself up so he's pressed against Erik's side. Erik loops his arm around Charles' shoulder, holding him close.

"Okay?" he asks. Charles rests his head against Erik's chest and closes his eyes.

"Yeah," he says. "Better than okay, even."


	6. sweet dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a fraught day, and Erik spends some time with the only member of the family who hasn't been shouting.

Erik feels better after a shower. He loves Charles, loves touching Charles and holding him, loves wringing orgasms from him, loves leaving him sleepy and soft and affectionate in bed. But Erik can't achieve that same level of comfort, even post-coitally, until he's no longer sticky and sweaty. He kisses Charles' forehead and closed eyelids, pulls the sheet up from where it was kicked down to the bottom of the bed, and slips into the bathroom for a quick shower. 

The warm water leeches out the last of the tension that even Charles couldn't coax out of his muscles. It's been a stressful week. He doesn't regret Raven moving in with them, not even when she told them about her decision and certainly not once he held his nephew for the first time. He does, however, sometimes wish that Charles and Raven would have their window-rattling arguments elsewhere. He knows it's just how they are--their love for each other burns hot and bright and their arguments are the same way. They shout terrible things at each other until they're both shrieking and hoarse and they get over it just as quickly.

It never stops making Erik feel awkward and uncomfortable and slightly frightened. He can never pin down exactly what about it is so unsettling, but it makes living with them hard, sometimes.

He's warm and and refreshed when he leaves the shower, wrapping a towel around his hips and combing his wet hair back with his fingers. He brushes his teeth and heads back towards the master bedroom, ready to spoon up with Charles, when he hears fussing from the baby's room. Raven's got the baby monitor, but Erik is up and awake and maybe the thing he needs to unwind completely is to spend time with the one member of this family who's been quiet for most of the day.

Kurt's sniffling and whining when Erik scoops him out of the crib and holds him close against his chest. He's warm and there's something about holding him that always slows Erik's heart rate, calms him down. He quiets almost immediately--it seems he just wanted to be held. Erik can relate.

He hums tunelessly, bouncing around the room and pressing his lips to the top of Kurt's head, inhaling the scent of baby powder and No More Tears. Erik rubs against the soft terrycloth of his onesie and dips his head to rest his cheek against the top of Kurt's head. 

"Go to sleep, baby," Erik murmurs. "It's okay. Just go back to sleep."

He doesn't know the words to the lullaby he's humming. He's sung to the baby before, pop songs from his youth and Johnny Cash and Paul Simon, but this is a song from even further back, one of the songs his mother sung to him. He wishes he could find the words, but all that remains is the melody, quiet and soft and running through his head in his mother's voice.

He feels Kurt nod off, feels his breathing regulate and his cries settle into long, quiet breaths. He's almost hesitant to put the baby down, to ruin the moment, but as perfect as this feels, he knows that Charles is in the other room, lying in their bed, and there's a perfection that comes from that, too, from having his husband in his arms, sleeping and happy and warm and safe. There are few things in the world he loves more, actually, and he gently puts Kurt back into his crib and then backs out of the room, padding quietly down the hall. He hangs the towel over the back of a chair and puts on a clean pair of shorts before sliding beneath the covers. Charles is asleep, but rolls into his arms, mumbling under his breath and tucking his head against Erik's bare chest in his sleep.

"Mm, you smell good," Charles murmurs without fully waking.

"Go to sleep, baby," Erik says, stroking his hair.


End file.
